Anchor
by Garowyn
Summary: It’s Father’s Day and Mokuba has something special planned. Another Seto and Mokuba Kaiba brotherly fic with a bit of fluff. Give it a shot you might like it.


**A/N: I haven't written a YGO fic in a long time but I'm back with another Seto & Mokuba brotherly fic. I understand Father's Day is still quite a ways away but I needed to get this story idea written so I could concentrate on Dark Ages (YGO fic—just in case I have any ghost reviewers for this—if I get any) & other stories of other categories. '…thoughts…' And the thing Mokuba writes is NOT a poem.**

* * *

It was another dull day of school for Mokuba Kaiba, whose chin was resting on both of his hands as he listened to his teacher drone on and on about their next assignment. Suppressing a yawn, the young boy's gaze shifted towards the outside where a few cars passed by on the not so busy street to the south side of the elementary school. The playground obstructed his view of the cars a bit, so he concentrated on the set of swings moving slowly in the wind. 'Boy, I can't wait until the bell rings.' He thought, shooting a glance at the clock behind the teacher. 

"That's it for today." The teacher concluded. "You may have the last five minutes to yourselves—oh wait! I have something to tell you." She raised her voice a bit to halt the sudden rush of laughter and voices from the students as if they had come back to life. "As you know, Father's Day is just around the corner and I have decided to allow you to have a break by having a celebration of some sort." The female reached down for some papers on her desk and began to walk around to each student, continuing with her speech. "On Saturday, the day before Father's Day, we will be having a picnic at 1:00pm so bring your fathers—and your mothers can come too! There will be games, prizes…"

The students spoke to one another in hushed voices as the teacher listed other things they would be doing. "Also, this will be an opportunity for you to show your writing skills by writing an essay about your father and share it at the picnic…"

Father's Day. Year after year it had become a rather useless custom to the Kaiba brothers. What was intended to be a special day brought only bitter and sorrowful memories of their late father and stepfather. At one time Mokuba had inquired about their real father since he had died when Mokuba was very young. Seto had mentioned something about work to do and never did answer his brother's question. Saddened, Mokuba was left with vague recollections of his father. It was understandable; Seto Kaiba did not speak of his real father often, and hated his stepfather with a passion so great, you could see the flames in his eyes.

So Mokuba never asked again. But now that Father's Day was coming again, he felt a strange pulling at his heart. He had to do something this year but it would be for…his older brother. After the death of their father, Seto had been the only other father figure for him. The elder Kaiba had taken it upon himself to serve as both parents to the younger sibling. Not even Gozaburo qualified as a father figure, at least not in his book. 'I should do something for Seto, to show my appreciation.' Mokuba's dark eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about what he could do. 'I won't do an essay because I don't think Seto would want our personal life to be broadcast or something…well I gotta figure out how to get him to come this Saturday first.'

Deep in thought, Mokuba barely noticed the shrill sound of the home time bell filling his ears. Only when one student nudged him in the shoulder did he realize it was time to leave. Gathering his books into his backpack, Mokuba rushed out into the throng of students. Along the sidewalk, between vans and other vehicles with parents awaiting their children, and buses prepared to be loaded, one jet-black stretch limo sat, the chauffeur waiting for the young master to arrive. "Thanks." Mokuba jumped inside the limo and proceeded to put on his seat belt while the driver went to the front of the limo.

Once they were on their way, Mokuba stared outside the window, watching the trees, cars, and people go by rather dizzily. 'Something, something, something for Seto.' Mokuba sighed, wondering what might make the teenager happy, if that was indeed, possible. Seto was different, a lot different and harder to please than any other person he knew was. Seto had had his heart and world shattered several times, piece by piece falling away only to be brought back forcefully in an attempt to keep his sanity. What had once been glass was now stone, steel. It was a way to avoid the heartache and depression that threatened to break him. A way to keep others from peering into his soul.

Releasing another sigh, Mokuba reached upward above his head and turned on the radio. Wincing at the loud music, he turned the volume down and tried to listen, hoping the melodies would lighten his mood or even give him an idea.

All of a sudden, one particular song that had just come on caught his attention. Mokuba listened to the words for a moment, words that spoke to him, reminding him of his big brother. "That's it…" Mokuba murmured, getting an idea. Reaching into his backpack, he grabbed the newsletter regarding the Father's Day picnic and read it silently. According to the letter, someone could sing a song to his or her father. 'Maybe I could just play it for him.' Mokuba had many talents and could do many things but singing was not one of them. It just didn't work for him. Plus he was a bit shy about being in front of strangers, for the most part, anyway. "I'm pretty sure I can just bring a CD or something."

In the end, Mokuba decided to check if there were any singles out for that song. After ordering the driver to go downtown to the music store, Mokuba reached for his wallet where a charge card was kept. Seto had given it to him, just in case for emergencies, making it clear he wasn't to go crazy with it.

Putting one foot in front of the other, Mokuba casually made his way inside the store where other customers were browsing around and listening to sample tracks. Mokuba thought about the song's genre. After choosing the most appropriate category, he headed for the back of the store. The young boy gazed at the endless CD's and tapes of musicians until he found the one he wanted. Taking it from its place on the rack, Mokuba started back to the front, ready to pay for it.

* * *

The elevator came to a slow stop when Seto Kaiba suddenly remembered what day was coming up. He wore his white trench coat and black clothing underneath. Earlier he had finished all required schoolwork at lunchtime and left to change into business clothes. Never did he keep his school uniform on because others might think him too young for the job. 

The usual stony expression crossed his face as he stepped out onto the marble floor of Kaiba Corp. headquarters and headed briskly for the large double doors, intent on getting home as quickly as possible.

Home. He had meant the Kaiba Mansion. It was not home, no, not his home but the home of the deceased Gozaburo Kaiba. The mansion held many painful and unforgettable memories. The abuse, the orders, the very coldness of the atmosphere although not it had become rather normal since _he_ wasn't around anymore.

And the silence, oh yes, he remembered the silence. It was so thick and foreboding, covering him like a blanket, threatening to suffocate him. The silence that followed his scrutinizing gaze or whenever someone, either he or Mokuba, was in trouble. Of course nowadays there was comfortable silence, occasionally disrupted by the beeps and groans of Mokuba and his video games, or the cheers whenever his favorite soccer or basketball team won a game on the wide-screen television. However, the once hollow and uneasy silence that had settled on him when under inspection, was gone. It seemed to have left with the older man's death.

No, it was not _his_ home. Nevertheless, home it remained, for now, for the time being. Perhaps someday they would move elsewhere in Japan or travel to another country like China or Canada. Anywhere, to leave the bitter memories behind, the ones that were currently attached to his mind.

"I hate you."

Seto slammed his briefcase down on the desk of his home office. The trip back had taken a mere twenty minutes out of his life, twenty minutes of remembering and teeth gritting.

Oh how he wished for life as it once was. When his father and mother had been alive and well, awaiting Baby Mokuba. Things had been so wonderful back then. No worrying about completing an assignment on time for fear of discipline or of discipline for others…

Seto stared outside the window as he shook off his trench coat, watching the sun settle down in the west.

Downstairs, a door slammed, meaning only one thing: Mokuba was home.

Seto half-smiled, hearing the footsteps clamber up the stairs with enthusiasm.

He turned around when the door flew open, nearly off of it's hinges. "Hi Seto!" Mokuba greeted him cheerfully, coming to a stop at the side of the desk. "Guess what?" He poured out breathlessly.

"What?"

"There's a Father's Day picnic this Saturday and—"

"Don't. Stop!" Seto ordered sharply, shocking his brother, and even surprising himself.

"Huh?" Mokuba frowned. "Why?"

"From now on, I don't want you to mention Father's Day _again_." Seto's voice was barely above a whisper, harsh and dead serious.

"But—? I just wanted—"

"I have work to do." Seto cut him off and sat down at his desk, already shifting some papers to another spot and turning on his computer.

"…" Mokuba's eyes filled with tears, feeling his heart break apart. Why would he not let him speak? Why would he not listen? "Seto, I…"

"Go do your homework, or something." Seto waved him off, already typing away.

A single tear, full of despair and defeat, sank downward, reaching his chin. Mokuba glared at his older brother and ran out of the office, crying ever so softly.

Guilt tugged at his heartstrings. Seto had caught the muffled sound of a young adolescent trying so hard to be strong and brave.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, hesitant about going after him. 'Please forgive me, Mokuba. I don't want you to become me.'

Seto had no more tears left. They had all been shed in the past. Seto was dry inside. He was cool and collected, hard and cold. He was stone.

* * *

"Why? Why, why, why!" Mokuba murmured into his pillow, still clutching his purchase. It was a waste of money now. "What did I do? He's mad, he's angry, he's…he's sad." Mokuba slowly lifted his head, realizing something. 

"_Seto, can you tell me about father? Our real father?" Seven-year-old Mokuba asked twelve-year-old Seto. "I can't remember what he was like." _

"_Not now, Mokie. I'm busy." The elder boy responded, trying to appear indifferent about the subject but failing to do so on the inside. _

"_No you're not. You're just playing with those cards." Mokuba retorted, sitting down next to him. _

"_I'm organizing them." Seto corrected himself. "Therefore, I'm busy."_

"_Please? Pretty please?" Mokuba begged after checking to make sure Gozaburo wasn't nearby. _

"_Blue Eyes White Dragon…" Seto whispered. He was thinking about the majestic Dragon, about the cards' rarity. 'Someday I will own them all.'_

"_What's that?"_

"_It's a Dragon."_

"_Really?"_

"_Mokuba, I'm busy right now…"_

"_I promise not to bug you again if…"_

"_If what?"_

"_If you tell me about father. Father's Day is coming and I want to remember him."_

"_I, can't, Mokuba."_

"_Why not?"_

'_How to say this?' He had to be gentle to the little boy. He didn't want Mokuba to feel anger anymore from their stepfather, let alone his own brother. He had to change the subject quickly before Gozaburo did return. "…It makes me sad when I talk about him." He said at last, for lack of a better explanation. It did make him sad…but it brought other feelings as well that he did not want to share…feelings of resentment and hatred towards Gozaburo, who he was reminded of whenever he heard the word 'father'. The word itself had been said so many times at social gatherings that he was forced to attend with the older Kaiba. _

"_Oh…okay."_

Mokuba blinked at the sudden flashback. 'It makes him…sad?' Now the guilt had switched to the younger Kaiba's heart. "I made him sad." He sighed and opened the plastic bag containing the CD as an idea struck him. "There's only one thing left to do then…"

* * *

The days passed by and Saturday had arrived. All through the week the Kaiba brother spoke with each other but something was missing that seemed to have disappeared after Seto's small outburst. Hopefully it would return after this day… 

Mokuba's classmates were no doubt at the picnic, having fun with their fathers and mothers, winning prizes, and eating all the food they can get. 'Oh well. This'll be so much more special.' He thought to himself as he reached over and shut off his alarm clock.

Last night he had ordered the cook and a few maids to come back to the Kaiba Mansion at 6:00am to prepare one of Seto's favorite breakfast meals. It was 5:45am right now and he needed to unlock the security doors from the inside so that they could arrive without Seto noticing.

After letting them in, Mokuba ran back to his room to grab his card he had made and the CD single. Dashing back downstairs with both prizes in hand, Mokuba set them on the dining room table, propping up the card against a glass that would soon be filled with orange juice. 'I hope everything goes well!' Mokuba thought, returning to the kitchen to check on the cook's progress.

Upstairs in his bedroom, Seto grunted and shifted his position under the covers. He was having a strange dream about Mokuba dressed in a chef's uniform, making a delicious breakfast, worthy of praise from the best chefs in the world. It was so real he could smell it! Wait…

Seto opened his eyes, jerked from his sleep as he realized the smell was real. Something, something good, was cooking.

He glanced at his clock, seeing the digital numbers 6:30am in Electro-green. 'What in the world…?' Seto sat up drowsily and grabbed his robe, wondering why the kitchen staff (it had to be them) was here so early. No one else except him and Mokuba knew the password for unlocking the security locks on the doors and Mokuba, in his right mind, wasn't usually up this early.

The teenager put on some socks and opened his door, the scent intensifying. A slight growl emitted from his stomach. Seto had not eaten since yesterday, when he had supper early but it had been a small portion. He recognized the smell of breakfast being one of his favorite meals.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Mokuba was waiting in the dining room with a portable stereo resting nearby. He had been taking a small nap while the maid set the table and placed the meals in front of the boy and at the head of the table. "Master Mokuba," The butler spoke monotonously to the younger Kaiba. "Breakfast is served."

"Hmm?" Mokuba blinked and rubbed at his eyes. "Oh, thanks." The butler left the room and Mokuba jumped to his feet, almost knocking over the chair in the process. It was around the time Seto rose from his sleep, ready to get started on his work. Mokuba was very anxious for Seto's reaction, and to get back to sleep. "Man, how can he live like this?" He muttered, popping the CD into the stereo and replacing the card from its place on the table after it had fallen.

Seto reached the bottom of the stairs just as the butler entered the hall. "Good Morning, Master Kaiba. Your breakfast is ready."

Seto merely stared at him, curious, and was about to ask what he was doing here so early when Mokuba burst into the hall as well, a grin lighting up his fatigued face. "Morning Seto!"

"Mokuba!" Seto frowned as the boy hugged him tightly. "What are you doing up? And the butler—"

"It's Father's Day! And I've got a surprise for you." Mokuba smiled secretively and grabbed Seto's hand, dragging him into the dining room.

Surprised indeed, Seto allowed himself to be dragged and was mildly astonished at the huge spread of breakfast food. "Mokuba…what's all this for?" He inquired seriously, putting one hand on the top of a chair.

"I _told_ you," Mokuba sighed in mock annoyance. "It's Father's Day and this for you." He grabbed the homemade card and handed it over to his brother. Seto took the card and Mokuba pressed play on the stereo.

The song played with the words speaking to Seto's soul.

Seto listened to the lyrics of the song. They were true to a certain extent. All the years spent trying to do Gozaburo's will, he had forgotten about himself. The old Seto had gradually faded away as the new Seto tried to be someone he originally did not intend to be. He had sought fulfillment in Duel Monsters cards that he had forgotten about the true strength that drove him on. His love for his brother.

After the first chorus, Seto opened the card and read the words of Mokuba in his handwriting.

_I know you aren't a father and all_

_and I know how much you don't like_

_to be reminded of our real father._

_So I made Father's Day into Brother's Day too_

_because you're the only Father that I've_

_ever had after Dad died. _

_You've always tried to be there for me_

_even though you were always busy with work._

_I understand that. You do have work _

_to do but please don't forget the good times_

_we've had. Okay?_

_Happy Father's and Brother's Day!_

Underneath the written part was a smiley that Mokuba had drawn himself.

A lump formed in Seto's throat but his eyes did not necessarily fill with water. 'Mokuba thinks of me as a father…but how? Everything I've ever done…I haven't always put him first.' He thought, remembering how obsessed he was with defeating his long-time rival, Yugi Muto. "Mokuba…" He began, unsure of what to say. "I…I know you mean well, and thank you, but…I'll never be who I once was. The past can't be changed. I can't suddenly become a different person." Seto finished, looking at his brother sadly.

Mokuba shrugged his shoulders. "I know that. I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you." He leaned over and hugged his brother tightly, arms around his neck. "I love you, Seto. Thanks for being the best big brother ever!"

A faint smile formed on Seto's lips and he patted Mokuba's back gently. "I love you too, little brother. Don't you ever change." He couldn't help it; a very thin film of water filled his eyes but it did not collapse. Perhaps he wasn't all stone and steel. Perhaps his heart was still made of glass.

His father was gone and he wasn't going to be back. Seto had been close to him. But now, things were different. It was time to be a better brother to Mokuba, one whose memories of their father were dim. The best gift he could give to Mokuba was to bring out the old Seto in him, thus also bringing out their father. Over the years Mokuba had proved to have much of his mother in him, which had saddened Seto greatly from time to time but nevertheless, it was still a good thing.

Mokuba kept him going and that was the main reason Seto did not fall apart. Without him…he didn't want to imagine a life without the boy. It seemed impossible.

'Yes, Mokuba, don't you ever change. You are my anchor, the only thing I hold on to, to keep from drowning, from falling away and breaking apart.'

* * *

**A/N: Special thanks to Caorann fridh Bronach for pointing something out! **


End file.
